Splinters
by kathryn-hs
Summary: Alex shows up for work, but where is Bobby? Dealing with the aftermath of The War At Home and Privilege. My first story, so I'd love feedback. Hints of BA, nothing major. Rating for language and mentions of mature themes.
1. Chapter 1

Splinters

Disclaimer: Don't own them, although I certainly wish I did…

Author's Note: My first real story on this site, so constructive criticism is very welcome. This will be three or possibly four chapters, I'm undecided. Thanks for reading! Kathryn.

Alexandra Eames walked through the door, brushing hair from her face and sleep from her eyes. How had her alarm not gone off? Or perhaps it had, but she may have simply turned it off and gone back to sleep. That had been happening more often, lately. When she had gotten back to work after Jo Gage, there had been days when she had wished for nothing more than to sleep and sleep, to forget. It was only the knowledge that her partner was waiting for her, probably already at his desk and leafing through that ever-present folder of his. Only the thought of seeing him again, of watching him work. Bobby Goren. Her partner, her friend who was always there, and always seemed to understand her. At least, until Thanksgiving.

Turning the corner, her stride faltered imperceptibly. The familiar solid figure at the desk was nowhere in sight. She turned, earthy brown eyes scanning behind her. Frowning, she walked to her desk, noting with a slight smile that a coffee was sitting in the center of her desk, steaming gently. He had been here, then. It was still hot. Moving to his desk, she realized that a second cup of coffee was knocked over, spreading a small dark pool across the surface of the desk and dripping onto the formerly clean floor. Had he spilled it on his shirt and gone to clean himself up? Alex wasn't entirely satisfied with this explanation. Why hadn't he cleaned up this mess before changing clothes? And, more to the point, when was the last time she had seen Bobby Goren spill something by accident? She remembered him spilling his drink to make himself appear an oaf, but never simply because he knocked a cup over. Any other man of his size would make his bulk appear clumsy, but with Bobby, every movement was carefully planned and choreographed ahead of time.

A faint sense of unease settled into her mind, as it had been doing with increasing regularity of late, but she shook it off and cleaned up the coffee spill with paper towels. Several of his papers had gotten soggy, so she sponged them as best she could and spread them out to dry.

Sliding into her chair, she pulled out a pen. Wherever he was, she might as well get caught up on a bit of paperwork while she waited. Alex wrapped chilly hands around the mug and gratefully inhaled the aroma of freshly brewed coffee, sipping from time to time.

Fifteen minutes later, she was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. Where was Bobby? Detective Goren was never late for work under normal circumstances. She let out a sigh. Of course, these days the circumstances weren't exactly normal. Shoving her stack of papers to one side, she got up and went to the Captain's office. Truth be told, she still thought of it as Jimmy Deakins' office, but she would have to adjust.

Ross was on the phone, but she knocked and went in anyway. He looked up, a harried expression on his face.

"Wait a minute, please." He spoke into the phone, and then covered the mouthpiece with one hand. "Yes?"

"Captain, have you seen Bobby this morning? He's not at his desk." She kept her voice even and noncommittal. That was her reputation, wasn't it? Levelheaded Eames, stuck with a crazy partner. She had heard the whispers many times; her 'crazy' partner wasn't the only one of the pair with sharp senses. It had been so easy to ignore them before, because all she had to do was to remember who she was supposedly stuck with, and she would know that the assignment that she had once looked at as a mistake was in truth one of the best things that had ever happened to her.

A look of slight annoyance passed over his face, and he ran a hand distractedly through his curly hair as he looked at the clock. "No, Eames, I haven't. He's late. Would you try and find him, please? I'm busy." He went back to his conversation.

She let herself out of the office, feeling unsure. What was going on? Marching out to the workroom, she approached a uniform standing at the door.

"Officer, have you seen Detective Goren? Silvery hair, brown eyes, 6'4."

The man blinked for a moment. "Goren? Yeah, he was here. Um…Twenty, twenty-five minutes ago, I think. He left, though. Looked real worked up about something. He sort of stumbled out, and was weaving like he was either drinking or in shock."

Alex felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Bobby, stumbling? Something was very wrong.

Almost running back to her desk, she snatched her cell phone and hit her speed dial. _Bobby, please… Come on, come on, Bobby, pick up!_ It started to ring and she frantically cleared her throat, trying to get rid of a large lump she found inexplicably lodged in her throat.

The ringing was abruptly cut off, and a recorded message began playing, something about being unable to connect to the number. She took an uneasy breath and hung up.

Shrugging into her black jacket, she adjusted the neck of her green turtleneck so it sat more comfortably, and smoothed her black pants.

Taking long strides, she went out of One Police Plaza and looked around, heading first for where Bobby usually parked. His car was there, so he was most likely in the vicinity.

_Right, Bobby. Where have you gone?_


	2. Chapter 2

A.N. Thanks very much for all the feedback!

Eyes intense, face set, and hair flying, Alex Eames went on the hunt. Several people cast nervous glances at the diminutive woman who nevertheless resembled a tiger, but her mind was on one thing and one thing only. Head turning and eyes skimming over an ever-changing kaleidoscope of faces, she swept along the streets at a rapid pace.

At first she consciously directed herself in a search pattern, not allowing herself to focus on anything but finding Bobby, but after a few minutes her thoughts began to drift, and her feet carried her along without her consciously thinking about it.

What had happened? Not just with this morning, but what had happen to them? If she could even in fairness call her and Bobby 'them' anymore. After her kidnapping, their relationship had seemed to deepen in some way she was still fighting to grasp. Although she had never gotten the full story from him, years of watching his behavior told her how afraid he had been. He clearly didn't wish to elaborate further, so she didn't press him. They went back to work, dealing with the pressures of a new captain and confusing cases together, as a team. Until one case.

Until a grief-crazed man had pulled a gun on them, and Bobby had pleaded with him to let her leave the room. Until she found out-not by Bobby confiding in her, but as an unexpected revelation to a murderer- that Bobby's mother had terminal cancer. Why hadn't he confided in her? She had been under the impression that they trusted each other. Six years of working together, of sharing so much, and he wouldn't tell her something as important as this?

But she could have let it go. She had, actually. It was Bobby after all, and with his mother dying he wasn't thinking as clearly as he should be. Alex had allowed him his space, but let him know she would be there if needed. He seemed unable to ask for help, and for once she didn't know what to say to him.

Then it was Thanksgiving, and all the pain and frustration spilled from where he had been meticulously storing it. His mother tugged one way, and work tugged the other. For the very first time, Bobby Goren dropped his calm, collected façade and splintered into tiny pieces. His self-control crumbled, and he snapped at the Commissioner himself before sending that black folder of his spinning through the air.

Alex had gone after him, angry, hurt and bewildered. She kept trying to help him, and all he did was retreat. Now he was risking his job and their partnership, for what?

"Back off." Two words, but they cut deep. _Back off._ Not looking at her, he walked into the elevator. She stood there, completely at a loss. _Back off._ That was what _he_ had been doing for weeks and weeks, while she tried to be there for him, and he said that to her? He entered the elevator and hit a button. Alex just watched him. Bobby's eyes flickered up to hers for a moment, but he looked down so quickly she might have imagined it. The doors closed, and he was gone, leaving his partner with the unpleasant feeling that she was about to cry in front of everyone in the building.

Their time in the interrogation room was so different than usual. On any other day, Detective Goren would march around, stepping behind the suspect, leaning, tilting his head, coaxing, shouting, cajoling. On this day, he sat, speaking in a voice she could only describe as defeated. Of course, even when he was falling apart at the seams, Bobby Goren was still brilliant, and they closed the case. Still smarting, she had quickly left the room. When Bobby came out, he barely spared her a glance before informing Captain Ross that he was leaving. She took a few steps after him, but his next words stopped her dead. "You want to fire me? Fire me, I don't care." His voice trailed off towards the end, and he walked away.

She had finished the paperwork by herself that night, trying to think of nothing but the case. Somehow, her burning eyes had remained bone dry until she had gotten to the safety of her own home. Then, and only then, she had promptly broken down and huddled in a ball on her sofa with Bobby's words echoing in her head. _Fire me._ The thought of working with another partner had scared the shit out of her, and she collapsed again, sobbing into a pillow. Finally the dull sleep of exhaustion had claimed her. Even as she drifted off, her mind's eye still focused on the picture of Bobby Goren, alone and sleepless, holding a vigil over his mother's bedside.

He had returned to work not long afterwards, but it wasn't the same. Bobby would hardly talk to her. He would talk, yes, but always about the case they were on. Any time she so much as hinted about anything pertaining to his personal life, even if she asked him if he was getting much sleep, a door would slam shut. It was as though they had slipped back six years in time, back to when they didn't trust each other, back to when she only worked with him on sufferance. She hadn't understood him then, maybe she never had, but for those years in the middle, she felt as though she did. Those years had been the best few years of her life, except possibly the years she had been married to

Joe. Now, she felt like those precious years had never happened, and the memory of them was beginning to dim in the face of the depression she slogged through at work. He was unfailingly polite, and still got her coffee, but the light had gone. Now, she always seemed to go first, with Bobby trailing along behind. How long could they last like this?

Her partner. Handsome-since when had she started thinking of him as handsome?-passionate, brilliant, talented, eclectic, and sorrowful. It seemed impossible that the human mind could fit so many pieces of knowledge, but he managed, breaking the case time and time again with some wonderfully arcane fact. He could convey more with those deep brown eyes than anyone else she knew. Without words, she could once tell exactly what he was thinking and feeling, be it giddy excitement, quiet contemplation, or outright anger. There had always been a spark in his eyes, and she missed the way the spark would fan to a bright flame when he grinned that childish grin at her. The spark seemed to be gone lately, and that scared her more than anything else.

The image of him leaning over some suspect, eyes aglow and head tilted to one side rose up in her head, and Alex stopped for a moment. She bit her lip and took a breath, forcing her face to regain its usual look of calm. _I can't break down now. Bobby is here somewhere, and he's not doing well. When I find him, I'm done with walking away. If he tells me to leave him alone again, I'll sit him down and refuse to go _anywhere_ until we've talked this over. He needs to let me help him._

Her wandering feet arrived at a small park, just a playground and a scattering of trees. She intended to do a quick circuit and keep on walking, but halfway through, she froze.

Under a tree, sitting hunched on a bench, was a figure in a blue suit. Her eyes nearly skipped over him before they were drawn back. The hands that twisted through his hair and the elbows that rested on his knees belonged to Bobby, but his posture was completely different, and the way his head drooped was alien to her. That wasn't the worst of it either.

He was crying.

Her Bobby Goren, steadfast, resolute Bobby, who didn't know the meaning of 'give up'. He was shaking; sobbing brokenly in the empty, defeated way that showed her the weeping had gone on for some time. His pants' fabric were slowly being darkened with tears. A broken cell phone was lying on the ground beside his foot, glittering splinters managing to catch light even in the shadows.

The sheer shock of it rocked her back on her heels, and her mouth opened and closed. _God, what happened to him?_ She took several steps towards him, stopping when she was six feet away. "Bobby?" Her voice was low, but it carried far enough.

The grey head was motionless, then it gradually lifted. Alex found herself looking into a haggard face she could barely recognize. His skin, damp from tears, was creased with deep lines, and his stubble was longer than she had ever seen it. Bobby's eyes looked into hers, completely blank. There was no emotion there, just an echoing void as though someone had scooped them out. They stared at each other as though strangers meeting for the first time.

Finally, recognition glimmered in their depths. "Eames." Bobby's voice was flat and hoarse.

"Bobby, wh-." She gulped. _"What happened?_"

He seemed to visibly steel himself. "My mother, she…" He took a rattling breath, let it out. When he spoke again, his voice had dwindled to a ragged whisper.

"She killed herself."


	3. Chapter 3

Part Three:

A.N. Sorry this took such a long time. I've been having some difficulties, which I'd rather not go into, and have been working on my own writing. Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Her eyes widened. Frances Goren was dead. Although she had never met the woman, Frances had been a part of Alex's life for most of the time she had been working with Bobby. He almost never mentioned his mother to Eames, but she learned at lot about Bobby's early life in the interrogation room. Frances Goren cast a shadow over Bobby, and as she gradually learned more about her partner, she had become adept at telling when his mother had trouble at Carmel Ridge. Alex herself stood in the penumbra, not directly involving herself, yet feeling the effects of Bobby's pain. And now she was gone.

Alex stood motionless, at a loss. What should she say? What _could_ she say? Usually, she knew what would calm Bobby down, but this… This was something she didn't know how to handle.

Bobby's large frame sagged in on itself, and he put his head back in his hands. Keeping his eyes fixed on the shattered remains of his cell, he said quietly, "Leave me alone, Eames. Just go away. Ask Ross for a new partner, one who isn't a… Isn't a dysfunctional wreck. Someone who you can trust to have your back. It's evident that I can't take care of anyone. Please. Let me be."

That was exactly the thing to put her hackles up. "Leave you alone? Let you sit out here in the cold, when you just lost your mother? Bobby, give me some credit! You _are_ my partner, and I _know_ I can trust you. You've never let me down in all the time we worked together." She paused. "Well, that's not completely true. You did let me down at Thanksgiving. Other than that, I can't think of anything to complain about."

"Eames, _I couldn't protect you!_" There was a hint of the old Goren roar in that, which was a hopeful sign. Anger was better than the frightening emptiness formerly in his voice. "You could have died, and I couldn't do anything." His voice quietened. "If you had died, it would have been my fault. Just…just leave."

The silence deepened between the two of them, Alex refusing to walk away, but unsure of what to say next. Into the silence came a small noise. A tear rolled down Bobby's nose and fell onto the icy ground. _Plish. _

As though it was a signal, Alex knew she was done with waiting. Squaring her shoulders, she crossed the ground separating them with a few long strides and stopped in front of him. His eyes flickered up, then downwards. She stepped forwards again, so her body was blocking his gaze. Her partner looked up, slight irritation starting to develop in his eyes. She met his look squarely.

Despite his flinch, she brought her arms up and held him in a hug. He shifted, but she held him close and spoke to him in an almost remonstrating way. "Bobby, you're being an idiot. I understand why, but stop it. I'm not walking away, and nothing you do can or will make me. I'm here, and here I will stay. You are strong, but no one can be strong all the time. When I came, you were sitting here crying alone, so cry, Bobby, cry if you want to. Sometimes it helps to wash the poison from a wound. I'll be right here beside you."

For a moment, he was rigid, and she was afraid that she had truly lost him. Then, he collapsed, and began to weep. Her own eyes filled with glistening tears, but she remained strong for him. His head settled on her shoulder, and she rested her head on top of his soft hair and whispered comfortingly to him as he shook.

Her hands stroked his back, and she couldn't help a slight smile despite everything. She was so used to Bobby Goren towering over her, as he towered over everyone. He was the tall one; she was the tiny one. Her head barely came up to her chin. And yet, here he was, enfolded in her embrace and shrunk to half his size. For once, she knew what it was to tower over her vulnerable-seeming partner and watch over him.

Bobby continued to grieve, crying harder and harder as the sobs came, ripped from his body. He was wracked with pain, combined with shame that he hadn't been able to protect his mother, not even from herself.

Neither of them were sure how long they remained there, holding on to each other, but eventually Bobby quietened, and Alex became aware that he was shivering. She let him go and fished in one large pocket. Pulling out a long blue scarf, she busily wrapped it around his neck. He unconsciously jerked away as she began, but made himself stay still as she tucked the soft wool in. Bobby looked down at it for a moment, then gave a soft laugh.

"There you go, trying to take care of me again." He paused, and then added, "Thank you, Eames."

She slipped onto the bench beside him, feeling the chill of the wrought-metal seat even through her clothes. She put her hand back in her pocket and pulled out a piece of paper towel, passing it to him. Understanding her meaning, he folded it in two and carefully cleaned the tears from his face. Crumpling the towel in one large hand, he stared at it for a moment.

"Could we go somewhere else? It's so cold I can hardly think." Alex asked. Bobby nodded silently, and they stood up together. "I know a place nearby. I'll show you, Bobby."

They walked side-by-side as usual, but there was a slight awkwardness between the two. A line had been crossed in their partnership, and neither of them knew quite what to make of it. One would occasionally steal a glance at the other, who would pretend not to notice and glance back a moment later.

Alex nodded at a small restaurant, and they entered, finding a small table at the back with two seats. It had soft lighting and décor in a muted brown, giving a relaxed atmosphere good for conversation. The radio was on, tuned to some pop station, but it wasn't too loud.

They ordered hot drinks, arriving remarkably quickly. The waitress poured a cup from Bobby's pot of Earl Gray tea and departed, leaving the pair in private. Neither knew what to say, and all they could hear was the murmur of other voices, and the powerful young voice coming from the café's speakers. Bobby listened for a moment, in an attempt to distract himself, and nearly lost control again as he heard the words.

_I watched you die,_

_I heard you cry,_

_Every night in your sleep._

_I was so young, _

_You should have known,_

_Better than to lean on me,_

_You never thought of anyone else,_

_You just saw your pain._

_And now I cry,_

_In the middle of the night,_

_For the same damn thing…_

Alex sipped from her hot chocolate and watched him clasp his chilly hands around his teacup. Knowing that if she let him withdraw now, it would be dangerous, she thought carefully. Then she asked, "Bobby?" He looked at her. "Can you please tell me what happened? If it hurts too much, I think I understand, but… I'd like to know."

His face creased, and Alex was struck by his age. He had always seemed to be the indefatigable Bobby Goren, spending an entire night without sleep and still managing to positively bounce with boyish enthusiasm when they hit a break, but he had changed during the last few months. Now he looked so much older, older and tired.

"You have a right to, Eames. You more than anyone." He swallowed a little tea and rubbed a hand over his face. Alex sat there, waiting patiently. She had spent so long waiting and hoping he could trust her, she could wait few extra seconds.

"I went to see Mom last night. She wasn't doing too well, and was angry that I hadn't been to see her as much as she wanted. We fought, to make a long story short. She said things…" He trailed off, his voice growing thick with pain. Alex instinctively grabbed his hand, slipping her fingers into his and squeezing gently. Bobby looked up, his warm cinnamon eyes filled with brief puzzlement as they met hers. His grasp tightened on hers, sensitive fingers memorizing every crease in her palm. Filling his lungs, he continued, "She was worse than I've seen her for a long time. She's had to live with the knowledge that she would die for a while now, and it was wearing her down. They had to sedate her. I sat with her for a while, then left."

Bobby poured himself another cup, drank, and started again. "This morning I got to work, and the facility called me. Apparently-" His voice broke. "Apparently she woke up earlier than expected, managed to find a bottle of pills somewhere, and she took them. All. They wanted me to come, and I left the squad room, but I-I couldn't get in my car. I just started walking. I couldn't stop. I kept walking through all the people until I found that bench. I sat there and couldn't go any farther. Then you found me."

"Bobby, I'm sorry." Alex winced inwardly, hating herself. _I'm sorry? What a pathetic, lame thing to say._ She sat there, trying to think of anything else to say that wouldn't sound so unbearably trite.

"I don't know what to think, I don't even know how to process this. I was trying to prepare myself for her death, but not, not like this! I knew I was helpless, but I thought I could at least be with her when she-. I just don't know."

She thought for a moment. "You feel sad, obviously. She was, and is, your mother, and sadness would be the typical reaction. However, considering your very atypical circumstances, your emotions aren't that clear-cut. You feel ashamed that you weren't there to stop her, and you probably hate yourself for that. Frances Goren chose her own passing, Bobby. If you had stopped her this time, she would have found some other way. You've known her your whole life, and her absence leaves an empty space. I think one of the worst parts is that you also feel relief."

He had been looking down at the table, but his head turned quickly to look at her. "Yes, Bobby. You've had to look after her for years, and deal with everything that came with the territory. It must have been incredibly frustrating, so of course you would be relieved that you won't have to deal with that anymore. That's what makes it so dreadful, Bobby! You're a good person, and you think you shouldn't feel like that. You have the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. The cliché 'unconditional love' isn't a cliché with you; it's a fact of life. You give and give, Bobby, until there's hardly anything left of you. Despite everything, you're only human. Let yourself feel. It's better than…the alternative."

"The alternative?" Bobby queried, although he suspected he knew the answer.

Her eyes flashed. "Yes! Shutting me out all these months, not confiding in me, not trusting me enough to tell me that your _mother_ had lymphoma! Building up this wall between you and everyone else, thinking you'll be safer. Bobby, your emotions are what make you such an incredible detective. You have an ability to understand people, relate to them. They can feel that, and respond to it. Why do you think you're the best detective in the precinct? Because you know how to solve the case, even when your rapport with the criminal tears you apart inside."

He looked at her for a moment; head unconsciously gliding sideways until it was virtually resting on his shoulder. "Eames, where do you think I'd be if I had a different partner? Nowhere. You saw me with Bishop. Sooner or later, one of us would have gotten the other killed on the job because of our-my-inability to connect and work as a team, my crazy methods, my inability to focus without someone to _understand_." He tried to laugh, but it came out as more of a moan. "I've heard the gossip, Eames, and I know what people think of me. Without you, I'm just a crackpot detective. Without you to keep me grounded, to stop me from going over the edge and to share your own brilliant insights, I am nothing." He was quiet for a moment. "I've never really thanked you for staying."

A waitress began to walk towards the table at the back, intending to ask if either of the mismatched couple needed a refill. Her clicking heels abruptly halted as she observed the pair. The small woman and the tall, graying man were completely still, and looking at each other. That in itself wasn't exactly startling, but what gave her pause was the quality of the look. He was staring at the woman beside him, a naked expression of raw grief, pain, guilt, and, somehow, relief and gratefulness. As though he had been expecting his companion to walk away in disgust, and, somehow, she had done the complete opposite. As though a lifetime of worries and concrete walls was slowly starting to dissolve. The look was the end of so much, and the beginning of, perhaps, a new chapter. The man's eyes held all this and more, gleaming suspiciously brightly as they mirrored the equally bright eyes of the woman. Her slightly darker eyes didn't flinch away from the sheer intensity of the man's gaze, absorbing it and communicating her own compassion, sorrow, and support. An understanding was clear as day between the two, an entire conversation without words. Suddenly, the two didn't seem so mismatched, complementing each other in a strange yet perfect symmetry.

The waitress inexplicably found herself blushing, intruding on a simple look that was intimately transcendent of the usual means of communication. She backed away carefully. Her shift would be over soon, and she would go back to her tiny apartment full of cats. As she scrambled to pay her bills and deal with all the humdrum challenges of life, the emotions evoked in her by merely brushing the edges of all contained in one simple look would stay with her for a long time.

Eventually, Alex broke her gaze, knowing there was nothing to say that could quantify or pin down their emotions further that this point. She pushed her cup aside and stood up.

"Come on, Bobby. Let's go back and get your coat, then I'll drive."

"Drive, Eames?"

"It's time to say goodbye, Bobby. I'm coming with you."

They paid the bill and left, side by side.

_Because of you _

_I never stray too far from the sidewalk _

_Because of you _

_I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt _

_Because of you _

_I find it hard to trust not only me, _

_but everyone around me. _

_Because of you _

_I am afraid…_

A.N. Lyrics are from 'Because of You', by the talented Kelly Clarkson.


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